Hey Mom, you’ll never believe the day I had! Berkley & I checked out Dograssic Park where they brought back ancient dog breeds (think Direwolves & Titanus!). It started as an adventure and turned into a real-life dino-dog chase! We barely made it out with our tails intact. Worth it, though! Let’s just say, home feels extra cozy tonight.

Love, Shay 🐾

I remember the first time Berkley and I heard about the latest attraction at Fawn Pug Palace—it was all anyone could talk about. A theme park, they said, where ancient dog breeds roamed, resurrected through the magic of science. The humans called it “Dograssic Park.” I thought it sounded fascinating. Berkley, of course, was skeptical. He’s always been the cautious one.

But the allure of adventure was too strong. I’d been on my best behavior for weeks—no plush toys shredded, no cheese sticks stolen—and I’d even faced down the thunderstorms bravely, much to Mom’s delight. It was the perfect opportunity for a little reward, and what better way than a day trip to Dograssic Park?

As soon as we arrived, the excitement was palpable. Fritz had elected to stay home; swashbuckling adventures weren’t exactly his cup of milk. The park loomed large, sprawling across acres, with habitats recreating terrains from long-forgotten eras. It was incredible.

We were guided into the park by a charming Golden Retriever named Max, who donned a hat much too large for his head. He explained how the scientists had brought back ancient dog breeds—the mythical Direwolf, the elegant Aurochs Canine, and even a breed they called the Canis Lupus Titanus.

“Stick close, and don’t wander off,” Max advised, his tone light but firm. “The Direwolves can be a bit, well, unpredictable.”

Berkley and I exchanged a glance, my mind teetering between awe and an itching urge to break the rules—just a little, just to see.

We began exploring, trotting from exhibit to exhibit. The Aurochs Canine was a sight to behold; its coat seemed to shimmer in patterns that played tricks on the eyes. But nothing could compare to the sheer enormity of the Canis Lupus Titanus. Their howls echoed through Upper Collie Canyon, making the fur on my back stand on end. Berkley seemed utterly entranced, his cautious nature momentarily suspended.

“Want to sneak closer?” I whispered, tail wagging with mischief. Berkley hesitated but eventually nodded, an adventurous glint in his eyes.

We darted behind a grove of trees, unseen by the tour group. Cresting a small hill, we found ourselves at the edge of an open plain where a lone Titanus gazed at the horizon, its hulking frame silhouetted against the setting sun. My heart raced, captivated by the sight.

But then, the ground beneath our paws tremored with distant thunder. Not the weather kind but more a rumble of earth and dread. The Direwolves were on the move, breaking free from their habitat in a mass of fur, teeth, and primal energy.

Panic set in as the tour group’s shouts echoed through the park. “Run!” bellowed Max, his face a mixture of terror and urgent authority.

Berkley and I turned tail, sprinting in the direction of the exit. My thoughts were split between the instinct to flee and the protective urge to ensure Berkley wasn’t too far behind. Adrenaline surged through me, lending speed to my legs as ancient howls filled the air.

We darted past Pawsome Pancakes, where the scent of breakfast without any customers clung to the building. The Groom Room was ahead, but there was no time to appreciate the calm it offered. Berkley was now keeping pace, his athletic build truly shining in this moment of raw survival.

As we neared the gates, the noise subsided, and it felt like we’d stepped out of a chaotic dream. I could see Choco Chihuahua Castle in the distance, its spires promising safety and comfort. The gate to calmness and home was just in reach.

A second later, panting and hearts still pounding, Berkley and I collapsed on the soft grass, the dire echoes of the Direwolves fading into the distance. We looked at each other and burst into joyful, exhausted laughter.

“Well, that was a bit more excitement than we bargained for,” Berkley woofed, nudging me playfully.
“I’ll say. Next time, let’s just stick to Kibble Cuisine and leave the ancient adventures to the experts,” I replied, still catching my breath.

The park officers efficiently contained the situation soon after. As we made our way back home, I couldn’t help but feel an immense gratitude for Spencerville—where even a misadventure could end with a wagging tail, a loving reunion, and perhaps a well-earned cheese stick.

It had been a day for the ages in Dograssic Park, and as Berkley and I settled back at home, the warm glow of the family hearth, and the gentle purring of Fritz, reminded us why this place, despite all its quirks, was truly a paradise.

The End.